Grasp
by Zagzagael
Summary: Unapologetic, unabashed smut. Juice walks in on Chibs. Tara is there.


"What in the hell is this?" His voice had broken. "Chibs?" A hesitation that became a male gasp. "Tara?" The moment before the detonator button was pressed and everyone took cover.

Juice was standing in the doorway of Chibs' bedroom. The afternoon sunlight weakly protesting his presence. Clouds and curtains filtering the small room, illuminating it soft yellow. Chibs had jumped to his feet as Juice's voice exploded. Tara grabbing for a sheet from the floor, the bed denuded, twisting away from being seen by the intruder. The room seemed to fill with the shrapnel of movement.

Juice spun himself out of Chibs' reach and Filip slammed the door closed, reaching for his jeans, yanking them on.

"Wait here," he said gruffly, looking over at her and she closed her eyes at what she saw in his face. Determination, resolve, and relief. He had wanted to be found out. He had needed to confess.

He shut the door behind him and she climbed to her feet, shaking. She could hear muffled angry voices. The pitch was rising dangerously. She hunted and found her panties on the floor, turned them right side out and stepped into them. She grabbed Chibs' black tee, tugging it over her head as she left the room.

They were standing nose to nose in the living room. Shouting incomprehensibly into each other's faces.

She could feel her entire body trembling with fear, with rage. And something more that she was not ready to look at closely. A freeing, a release, a leap that was feeling like flight.

"Don't you fucken say her name again!" Chibs' voice had become a sling blade, threatening and deadly sharp.

Juice heard the danger and stepped back. Out of Chib's reach. He held up both hands in surrender, in an attempt to calm. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do with this then. Brother?" he sneered the endearment.

Chibs let out a ragged breath and Tara knew him so well, knew how close he was to something that could not be forgiven or forgotten. She moved forward and put her hand on his arm, stilling his potential for movement with just her fingertips. He looked down into her eyes and she watched him process the situation, move through the impulsive options. Then she felt his bones harden but his muscles relax. He nodded at her and looked back at Juice who was staring at the two of them goggle-eyed. Visibly blown away by the intimacy that bound them to one another. Hardcore.

Chibs ran a hand over the shock of hair that had fallen across his forehead, pushing it out of his face. His eyes were narrowed at Juice. "What are you supposed to do with it?" He shoved his tongue deep into his cheek. "How 'bout this? It's not your business. Leave it. Get on your damn bike and drive away."

Juice barked out a bitter, astonished laugh. "Yeah? That's what I'm supposed to do?" He looked at Tara then quickly away. "It is my business, Chibs. You know it is."

Tara spied the pack of smokes on the coffee table, beside the sunflowers she had brought with her just hours ago, rinsing out a spaghetti sauce jar she had found in the kitchen garbage for a crude vase. She brushed past Juice who flinched visibly away from her, drew out a cigarette and lit it with a lighter that she tossed back down onto the littered table top. She inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs until it burned. She looked over her shoulder at the two men who were now staring openly at her, eyes still clouded with dark emotion, but shoulders finally relaxing, hands un-fisting at their sides. She was heady with the power they were gifting her. She curled herself into the corner of the sofa, inhaled again, and leaned over to tap the ashes into the tray.

"Sit," she told them both.

Chibs walked over and lowered himself, body alert, beside her and she handed him the cigarette.

He nodded to Juice who threw himself into the armchair. The younger man put his head into his hands and rocked slightly, groaning softly. "Fuck," he finally bit out. He looked up at both of them but couldn't keep his gaze on Tara, her bare legs drawn up beneath her, knees pressed into Chibs' thigh. He fastened a forlorn look onto the other man. "You know…some days, some fucking days. Like this day? I think wow maybe that god-damned branch didn't break. Maybe this is a kind of afterlife for bikers. A hell on earth. Valhalla only for sinners."

Chibs sighed heavily. And indicated the pack of cigarettes. Instead Juice fished a blunt out of his cut pocket and leaned forward for the lighter. He dragged deeply at the joint and, exhaling through both nostrils, filled the room with the sweet odor of cannabis. He took another long toke, then stood and handed it across to Chibs. Tara ground out the cigarette butt and took the drug when it was offered.

For long moments the three sat quietly, smoking, and passing the joint until it was ash.

"How long-" Juice began but Chibs waved him silent.

"Not your business."

"Yeah, you say that, Chibs. But what if it was the other way around? What if you walked in on me and-" he couldn't say her name but his dark eyes darted over to her face and she was looking at him. She held his gaze for a hot moment until he tore it away, reluctant, confused.

The smoke had gone a long way towards calming her nerves. She could feel a wary kind of tension radiating off of Chibs' beside her and she put a hand out and he reached down and laced his fingers with hers. He had only his jeans on, bare feet up on the coffee table now, and she found his naked torso, still slick with their intermingled sweat, unbelievably erotic as she sat next to him wearing only his t-shirt and her underwear. She felt as though the two of them were on stage, Juice their only audience, the second act waiting to be unveiled. She laid her head on Chibs' shoulder.

He answered Juice. "What if I did? I know how to mind business that's my own, Juicey boy. Your mouth can get your nose broken."

Juice could not stop staring at them, at their joined hands, shaking his head, exhaling loudly. He was looking as though he would need a paper bag to breathe into. He raised his eyes, still hooded with his drawn brows. "What about-"

Tara cut him off with both a raised hand and a fierce look. "Don't. Just don't." She gently shook her hand free from Chibs hold, unfolded her legs and stood.

The shirt hit her at the top of her thighs. Her legs long and lean. She moved around the coffee table towards Juice who was now staring at her with a steely fear in the corners of his eyes but an open longing in the tilt of his head, the set of his mouth. He licked the long upper bow of his lips.

"I can make this your business, Juan," she said and her voice was full of seductive promise. Chibs laughed appreciatively from the sofa.

"I'm not following," Juice stammered as she drew closer to him.

"Oh, you will soon," she said quietly and pulled the t-shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. She straddled his lap and his hands instinctively went to her ass, keeping her from falling, pulling her against him. With one hand on the back of his head, Tara pulled his mouth to her breast. She arched into his arms.

Both knees deep in the cushions of the chair, she laced her fingers behind his neck and made the conscious decision to take the wheel, take the handle bar, take the reins, and drive. She had wanted to find a way to live more in the moment for long chaotic months. The impetus for her affair with Chibs had been fueled by this desire. She no longer could tolerate the careful and precise pattern of her life that she had been following like an obedient child, not straying inside or outside the lines. She wanted to find a wild place in which she could run and dance, sing and twirl, where she could feel free and unencumbered. At night, alone in her marriage bed, listening to the point of exhaustion for Jax's bike, waking from tormented sleep, she knew that it was an illusion. In the daytime, heart beating with every unexpected step Jax took towards her, each tinny ring of her cellular, a hot glance setting her on fire, she knew it was an illusion. But it was keeping her alive.

Now, on Juice's lap, feeling a new pair of strange hands warming her bare flesh, she let go of conscious thought, recrimination and hesitation. She became animal. And beneath her, between her thighs, she felt him respond in kind. He was reaching for her face; she knew he wanted to kiss her. But this she would not allow. She looked over her shoulder, back at Chibs. His expression was easy to read. They knew one another better than they knew themselves. They had become partners in crime. He was following her into all the darkened shadows. More than any man she had ever known, he was the one whose heart beat in time with hers.

He stood and moved towards them.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back and Chibs was there, beside her. He cupped her face, the unbearably masculine hands she loved, the intent he possessed, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry. He was whispering something in his vernacular through her lips, between her teeth, honeyed on her tongue and she swallowed. He licked out of her mouth and leaned down next to her, one hand beneath Juice's jaw, pulling his face up and Tara nearly swooned, overcome, as Chibs ground his mouth against the other man's lips. Kissing him deep and noisily, claiming him. She watched through slitted eyes as he caught Juice's thick lower lip between his teeth, holding on fast, and growling. She reached down, between her legs and had Juice in both hands and was rewarded with a groan that released her from any last remnant of control.

She slid off his lap, went down on her knees, and quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He lifted his hips to accommodate her. He was wearing tight black cotton boxer briefs and she pressed her open mouth against his cock, breathing out hot and damp into the material. She turned her head and caught him between her teeth and bit hard enough to make him squirm.

Chibs had both hands on the back of the chair, kissing Juice with an overpowering display of male desire. The heat generating between the two men was intoxicating. Tara coaxed the jeans down over Juice's thighs, pushing them to his ankles, then sitting back on her haunches to untie his boots. Finally she had him free of boots and socks and jeans. He was pushing his own briefs down, releasing his erection, and she smiled wickedly and leaned forward to take him in her mouth. She looked up at him, he had let his head fall back and then Chibs was behind her, knees pressing her forward, his mouth on Juice's neck. She could feel how fast her heart was beating, her blood on fire, her body responding with a delicious aching.

She stood and turned beneath Chibs, settling back into Juice's lap, his hands on her hips, and then it was Chibs on his knees, pressing himself between both of their open legs, his mouth on her breast, his hands fast and hard on her back. He raised himself back up, knees on the edge of the chair, and he had her face in his hands, and he was kissing her. She could taste Juice on his lips, his tongue. She hummed into his mouth. She wanted to devour him. She felt Juice beneath her, behind her, the taut body, the wild and inconceivableness of his position.

Then Chibs was standing to his full height, reaching for her hands, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her tight into his arms. Kissing her mouth, her jawline, licking down the length of her throat and biting into the muscle of her shoulder. And behind her, Juice stood, and moved up fast against her back. She felt Chibs reach for him and in that moment she knew they had done this before. Something in that thought staggered her and they both caught her and she wanted to be pressed, petal to bone between their bodies.

Chibs stepped back, scooped her up in his arms and headed for the bedroom. She listened as Juice turned the deadbolt in the front door. Then, on her back, peering beneath Chibs' arm as he kneeled over her, she watched as Juice came into the bedroom, shut the door behind him. He smiled at Chibs, all feral tooth, and catching her eye, he winked at her. She smiled and pulled Chibs' face down, hungry for his mouth. Ravenous.


End file.
